


(23. Ancient) / Panta Rhei ~ change is the only constant

by Mothfluff



Series: GO-ctober Prompts 2019 [23]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Melancholy, October Prompt Challenge, One Word Prompts, philosophical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 17:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21149318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothfluff/pseuds/Mothfluff
Summary: My attempts at an October Challenge, using the original Inktober prompts for drabbles.(Each prompt will be posted as part of a series, not chapters, so I can add tags/characters/ratings/trigger warnings for each instead of the whole she-bang)Prompt 23 - Ancient“What is the point?” Aziraphale didn't move his hand, but he also didn't hold his. Not like he usually would.“What do you mean?”“If it all has to become something different anyway. What was the point of it all? If it ends and changes into something else.”Crowley thought about that, longer than he usually thought about things. An angel getting philosophical deserved a well-thought out answer.“Growth.” He concluded after a long while.





	(23. Ancient) / Panta Rhei ~ change is the only constant

**Author's Note:**

> Guess this is what happens when I write on a bad mental health day - random philosophical waxing and inexplicable random melancholy based on some ruins. Hm. A bit anti-climatic, sorry.

A quiet peace laid over the Forum Romanum, empty of its usual bustle of tourists, only the cats roaming between the historic ruins. The view over the area was astonishing. The setting sun illuminated each stone, turned their usual greying white into a deep ochre, almost red in places.

On its very edge, still covered by sunlight, atop one of the highest pillar rows left, sat an angel and a demon in harmony.

“What a view.” Crowley said, quite unnecessarily, but the quiet had gotten to him after an hour or so, had turned into something that felt a bit more unpleasant than it usually did.

Aziraphale did not answer.

“Y'remember how it all looked when it wasn't fallen down?”

A soft 'Mhm' was all he got. Aziraphale seemed contemplative, downtrodden, _tired_. He'd only taken up the habit of sleeping a short while ago. Maybe weary was a better term.

“Now that was a city. Ancient Rome. What a place.”

“It had to fall.”

Well, at least he was talking now.

“Everything has to end at some point, I suppose. Or change, at least. But look how much is left. And how much they remember.”

_(I remember. We changed, and yet we're still the same. Just like we were back then. Sitting together.)_

“I know. Sometimes it just feels like it all happens so fast.”

“Too fast?” 

“Not for the humans, I suppose. Most of them don't see it change in a lifetime.”

Quiet again. They'd both seen enough change for several hundred lifetimes. A human would go mad.

Maybe an angel was allowed to get a bit weary of it.

“We've been here lots, haven't we?” Crowley put his hand over Aziraphale's on the cooling stone as the sun left them, because he was allowed to do that now. _(Because things had changed. Because they'd changed them.)_

They'd been here for the romans, the emperors and senators. They'd been here for the popes, for the powerful families, for the artists and inventors. They'd been here for rulers and leaders and many more powerful men, from their rise to their downfall. Constantly changing, constantly the same.

It could wear down even a demon.

“What is the point?” Aziraphale didn't move his hand, but he also didn't hold his. Not like he usually would.

“What do you mean?”

“If it all has to become something different anyway. What was the point of it all? If it ends and changes into something else.”

Crowley thought about that, longer than he usually thought about things. An angel getting philosophical deserved a well-thought out answer.

“Growth.” He concluded after a long while.

“It doesn't always grow.” Aziraphale countered after another endless while. “It doesn't always get better. Why change for the worse?”

“It's not like that.” Crowley's fingers weaved under Aziraphale's palm, lifted it up just a bit from the stone that had gone cold even under his warm hand now. “It's a bit like flying. You don't just go up. You have to follow the currents.”

“It's feels so horrible to see them make the same mistakes again and again. That's not growth.”

“No. That's human.” _(That's us, sometimes. That's us, in the past. But even that can change. We proved that, didn't we?)_

Aziraphale sighed, and it sounded even more tired, almost resigned.

They'd decided to travel the world, after everything had ended and not really ended, just changed. After it had become clear that the world was still there to travel, and would be there for the foreseeable future, and they would too.

They'd looked up their old haunts, checked in at almost forgotten places, had discovered what was still left of times gone by. They'd exchanged stories, reminisced on memories. Shared their past, shared their present, shared their future.

It hadn't all been good. Crowley had watched the sadness slowly creep over Aziraphale's face. Some memories were not supposed to come back. Some places should not be revisited.

Some things had not changed for the better.

He'd tried to make it better. Found little things to make him laugh. _(Did you ever think your silly string of argumentative letters with that art critic would end up in a museum?) _Brought him to restaurants that were just right. _(Look, they still make them just the same. You can taste the history in these spices. You can taste the memories.) _Showed him the places he could never share before. _(I spent so many days tempting in these gardens back in 1431. Started talking to the ducks at one point. They seemed smarter than the human clientele. Always thought you'd like it here.)_

And it had helped, a little bit. But nothing could really stop the thoughts from seeping in. Sometimes you just had to deal with the bad side of nostalgia. Especially if you had thousands of years to be nostalgic about.

“Do you think we made any difference at all?” Aziraphale looked at him, with that sadness again. “If it's all left to change anyway, did we ever really help? Or hinder, I suppose?”

“On the big scale? Maybe not.” Crowley shrugged. “If it was all according to plan, anyway. Guess we made exactly the difference we were supposed to make.”

“Hm.” Aziraphale sounded neither pleased nor displeased by that. Crowley's hand gripped his tighter, pulled it to his thigh.

“On the small scale, though? Definitely. You changed so many people's life for the better, angel. And I did the same, just in the other direction.”

“I guess that's the best we could hope for.”

_(You know you made a difference to me, don't you? You know how you changed me. You know what it meant, you know what it means now. You must know. I have told you, again and again, in so many ways. I will keep telling you.)_

“It doesn't do well to dwell on the past, anyway. Not when there's so much to look forward too, now that the world can keep spinning like it always has.”

“Hm.” again, this time with the tiniest of smiles. Crowley felt Aziraphale's fingers thread slowly between his own. “Things really have changed, haven't they? You being so positive, and me all melancholic.”

Crowley echoed his smile. “We've changed each other, at least, then.”

“For the better?”

“Oh, definitely.”

He got up at that point, pulled the angel up with him. The sun had set completely beyond the hills, the ancient ruins covered in shadows. The past laid to rest.

“Come on, then. Let's get out of here. The city hasn't changed _that_ much, I'm sure we can find some place that does marvellous things with oysters.”

Aziraphale laughed at that, finally, and squeezed his hand tight before they stepped down from the pillars on stairs that weren't there. The city was waiting for them in the night's darkness, as it had in the past, only now they didn't have to hide in it anymore. Things had changed, for the better.


End file.
